Boys on Film
by LCFC
Summary: The FBI are on their tail. The credit cards are maxed and Dean is sick. What's a boy to do?


**Boys on Film**

_This was written for the Supernatural Daily Life prompt on Live Journal._

_My prompt was FILM. This is a bit saucy as the film involved is one of those rude ones – you know!! I just wanted to show that Sam had his sexy side…and after seeing Heart we all know he does!_

Dean's breath rattled in his chest and Sam knelt by his brother's bed running a shaking hand through sweat soaked hair "We're gonna have to get you to a hospital bro" Sam whispered as gently as possible "This can't go on"

"Sam…" his brother's voice was hoarse and harsh "We can't afford it dude – no more fake insurance – remember?"

"Dean – you're sick – I think it might be pneumonia – I can't nurse you here by myself anymore" he ran his hand over his brother's hair again, feeling the heat radiating from Dean's skin. The elder Winchester moaned, his body shaking, teeth clenching against the tremors. "Damn it Sam" he snapped, the words breaking off into a cough "What part of no insurance don't you understand?" lj-cut text"Read more" 

It had been over three months since they had escaped from the FBI and Agent Henrickson was still on their tail. It had been increasingly hard to use fake ID's or credit cards and, more than once, seedy motels were beginning to turn them away. Added to that there was the fact that Sam had murdered another hunter. Granted he had been possessed at the time, but that hadn't stopped friends of the man trying to track them down. They were on the run now and they were rapidly running out of options, Dean had made plenty of money from hustling but paying for everything in cash was costly and they had stopped eating three meals a day and limited themselves to one; figuring that food was the one thing they could do without.

This strategy had worked until, after one particularly bad hunt, Dean had come down with a nasty cold which had turned into a cough and now, without the strength needed to fight it off, it was developing into something deadly. Sam glanced at his brother again and his throat closed. Dean looked like shit – his face was pale but his cheeks were flaming; sweat dripped down from his brow across his high boned cheeks and his breath rattled in his lungs. Nothing Sam had dosed his brother had touched the infection and Sam was pretty convinced that Dean now had more than a common cold. They had been holed up in this seedy motel for almost a week and Sam was running out of ready cash; He couldn't hunt, he couldn't go out and hustle, he had to stay and look after Dean. Now he was pretty sure that if he didn't get his older brother to a hospital soon then Dean would die. Sam shuddered; that was not an option.

His brother was pretty out of it when the ambulance came and when the sirens were turned on, Sam knew he had done the right thing. He watched in concern as Dean was taken instantly into the ICU unit; IV's in his hands, oxygen mask across his mouth. A nice woman, plump and homely, approached him, a clip board clutched in her hand and Sam felt his heart sink, anticipating her question before she even opened her mouth.

He got back to the motel room at 2am in the morning; hot, tired and worn down. His puppy dog eyes and gentle pleading had won him a week to get some money together to pay for his brother's treatment. He had been right; Dean had a severe case of bronchial pneumonia and would need to be in hospital for at least two weeks. He needed antibiotics, oxygen; rest and good food and all that was going to cost. Sam could hustle, hell he could even go out and get a menial job, but that wasn't going to even start to cover the cost of what Dean needed. He slumped at his laptop and stared at the flickering screen, reflecting on his options.

He was down to the, unthinkable, sell the Impala option when he saw the advert. It popped up on his screen and he stared at it, wondering

b Young, fit, good looking men wanted for a new film shooting here this week. Must be open minded. Some acting experience needed but not necessary. We pay excellent rates $1000 per hour for successful candidates. Auditions held at Newman's Theatre – today – 3pm /b .

Sam frowned; $1000 dollars per hour; that sounded too good to be true. He tapped the laptop keys thoughtfully. He was young and fit alright so he fitted at least two of the criteria needed. He wasn't vain enough to consider himself good looking but Jess and her friends had often commented on his appearance. He'd enjoyed acting at school and had appeared in several productions at Stanford, so he had a little experience. His eyes went back to the offer of $1000 dollars an hour and he made up his mind. He was gonna go to this audition and give it his best shot. He needed to do this, he needed to help Dean. All these years his brother had taken care of him – now it was Sam's turn – and he wasn't about to let his brother down.

The theatre was in a pretty seedy part of town and very run down. As Sam entered he could smell damp and mould and something stale. He patted the EMF meter that he constantly kept in his pocket but it remained silent and Sam guessed the only thing haunting this theatre was rats.

There were at least two hundred men hanging around backstage, each with a number pinned to their chest. As Sam obtained his own number he noticed that not many of them seemed to fit the criteria; some were middle aged, others a little too young looking. Most of them looked nervous but some just looked bored and Sam wondered, not for the first time, what he might have gotten himself into.

Women loitered around; young and pretty; they were just the sort of woman Dean would have liked. Short skirts, peroxide hair, long legs. Sam smiled at one of them and she giggled, whispering something to her friend behind her hand. Sam didn't mind looking at skin on a woman, but most of these girls were showing more flesh than was seemly and some of the waiting men were openly letching. Sam sighed and leant against the wall as he waited his turn; it was going to be a long afternoon.

When his number was finally called, Sam found himself standing on the rickety stage; spotlight shining directly into his face. As he looked down into the auditorium, he could see a man, the film's director he assumed, slouching down in his seat looking discontented. The man wore an expensive cashmere knit and tight slacks and he had the most elaborate hair Sam had ever seen. He coughed for a moment and cocked his head to one side, looking at Sam like one might admire a particularly good piece of meat "So" his voice was high but firm "Have you done porn before?"

Sam felt his heart leap in his chest and he turned his head, wildly, wondering if he might make a quick escape. Porn! Shit – what a stupid fucking bastard he was – he might have known that 'proper' film makers don't hold auditions in run-down theatres and that they didn't offer practical unknowns $1000 per hour.

"Well?" the man sounded annoyed now "Cat got your tongue?"

"No – err – I've never" Sam's mind wandered back to his brother, lying white faced and trembling on his hospital bed. Shit, Dean wouldn't hesitate, he'd do anything, even his life, to save Sam, so who was he to wuss out over the possibility of acting in a porn film "But I'm willing to give it a try"

"You certainly are a big boy" the Director sounded interested now "Does everything – you know – match up?"

"I guess" Sam knew that this was his only chance and coming across as shy and retiring was not going to enhance his chances at all "Would you like to find out?"

"I would" there was excitement in the Director's voice now "Are you going to show us?"

"Yeah" Sam coughed "Yeah sure".

Still thinking of Dean – Sam began to undo the buttons on his shirt slowly and methodically – he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears and his breath was coming in swift, sharp, pants. He put his fingers under his tee-shirt and pulled it off, so that he stood half-naked for a moment, unconsciously pushing out his chest and flexing his arms. Behind him he heard a sharp intake of breath and a girly giggle and he realised he had an audience. He stood still for a moment and then let his hands play around the worn fly on his jeans.

"Nice" The Director's voice sounded strained "Lets see the rest"

Sam could feel his cheeks redden as he undid the zip and let his jeans fall round his ankles. He stood for a moment, just in his white jockeys, and took a deep breath, his fingers pulling at the waistband and letting them drop to the floor.

There was another intake of breath; a high pitched squawk and a hiss and then total silence. The spotlight burnt into his skin and he felt sweat begin to form on his back and shoulders, his body illuminated by fading yellow light. He wondered, for a moment, if he would ever live this down and he prayed to whoever was listening that Dean never find out about this. He wanted to cover himself, to cup his hands over his nakedness, but he resisted the urge and stood still and straight, chest and groin thrust forward, head held high.

"What's your name kid?" the Director's voice seemed higher pitched now, a virtual squeak in the silent room

"It's…" Sam paused for a moment, hating himself for what he was about to say "It's Sammy"

"Sammy" the Director stood up and clapped his hands gleefully "Sammy – you are so hired!" and with that, Sam Winchester was on his way to becoming a porn star.

Sam sat on the side of Dean's bed, his hand threading through his brother's short hair. Dean's eyes held his for a moment, their usual bright green dull and unfocussed. Sam forced a smile and watched Dean for some sort of reaction. His brother had an oxygen mask over his mouth and couldn't speak. Sam never thought he would miss his brother's snarky comments but he did and he wished things were different "Just get better Dean" Sam continued to stroke the short spiky strands "Don't worry about anything". He saw the question in his brother's eyes and grinned a little "Specially not the insurance money ok – I…I got a job Dean – ok – should cover everything". Dean's eyes widened and he moved his hands restlessly "It's not hunting bro" Sam reassured him "I'm not in any danger" he watched as Dean closed his eyes and lay back on the pillow "At least I don't think I am" he whispered to his, now sleeping, brother "At least I don't think I am"

The film set was a lot more luxurious than the theatre where they had auditioned and Sam felt himself relax a little. He had had two shots of whiskey before arriving – something unheard of – and was already feeling a lot less tense, the burning alcohol taking away some of the fear. He was shown to his dressing room by a hard faced woman in a white coat who eyed him up with more than a little appreciation "This is yours" she said, as she held up his 'costume' "Get it on and get out on set – Derrick will tell you what to do"

Sam's 'costume' was a short white toga which left nothing to the imagination. It barely fitted around his muscular body and his long legs hung from the bottom. Feeling more than a little self-conscious he left the dressing room and went in search of the mysterious Derrick.

A small man in a pink jumpsuit was fussing over a half-naked girl when Sam arrived on set. He looked up as Sam entered and smiled "Well" he pranced over to Sam and ran a hand over his chest "Gavin has come up trumps this time" he looked up and down the length of Sam's body and laughed "Boxers off" he ordered "We want to see everything!"

Sam shuffled out of his boxers, suddenly aware that his ass was on show. The half-naked girl watched in awe as Sam stripped off and she grinned at him, showing perfect teeth. He grinned back, not knowing quite where to look, and felt 'little Sam' perk up a little at the attention. Derrick clapped his hands gleefully "Wonderful" he said with a giggle "We won't need to use the fluffer either!"

It appeared that they were making a sword and sorcery epic – which Sam thought was a little ironic – and his scene revolved around one of the soldiers arriving home from battle and taking solace with a willing slave girl. Derrick explained that his Director, Gavin, always tried to put some sort of action and story into his porn and that Sam would have to do a little hand to hand combat. Sam didn't mind that aspect of the film, it was the slave girl scene that had him the most worried and he wondered just what would be expected of him.

It was early afternoon when they finally came to the scene that Sam had dreaded but he had already been on set for five hours and he was already working out just how much he had earned when Derrick came to fetch him. He felt nerves clench his stomach and he forced a smile, the cold air whipping around his exposed buttocks "I've never done this before" he confessed to Derrick, feeling the absurd urge to grab the little man's hands.

"Don't worry Sammy" Derrick patted his arm "Your young and your beautiful – all you have to do is what comes naturally!" he smiled "From your reaction to the girl this morning – I don't think you'll have any problems"

Sam found himself face to face with the half-naked girl from earlier; his body shaking with nerves. She smiled at him, her blonde hair framing her elfin face, her blue eyes excited and sparkling "You're much better than my usual" she confided "I'm really looking forward to this"

Sam hadn't been with a woman since Jess and he felt odd and exposed. There were people everywhere, milling here and there, checking lights, whirring cameras. He wondered how an earth he was expected to 'perform' with all these people around and he was scared he wouldn't be able to do what was expected of him and that he would let Dean down. He heard the Director yell action and he turned to the girl who was staring up at him expectantly "Kiss me" she whispered and he bent down and took her face in his hands, pressing his lips against hers. She moaned and pressed against him, waking 'little Sam' causing Sam to groan in return "Hey" she mused as she reached down to stroke his growing erection "You are a natural!"

And she was right. Sam took to porn like a duck takes to water. He had no idea that he could be such a sensual being, that he could fuck in so many different and imaginative positions, that he could make a girl moan and groan and come over and over and then do it again. By the end of the day, Sam was sated and exhausted, his naked body covered in sweat, come and some other bodily fluids that he was unsure of. He lay on the bed, the girl wrapped in his arms, his eyes closed in contentment. As he felt himself begin to drift he heard Gavin murmur "Give that man a bonus"

Two weeks later he 'sprang' Dean from hospital and was overjoyed to see how healthy and happy his older brother looked. Dean's colour had returned and his breathing was back to normal. He watched in interest as Sam counted the dollar bills into the administrator's hands and shook his head "Some job you had there Sammy".

And it was. Sam had earned enough money, not only to pay Dean's hospital bills, but to keep them going for at least a month or two and maybe shake the FBI off their trail. In the end he had been sad to say goodbye to his new found friends, promising Gavin and Derrick that he would definitely look them up when he was next in town. He was sorry too, that he had had to refuse their offer of more work. Hell it was easy money and he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed of what he'd done. He grinned, Dean had told him that he ought to get himself laid and he had been right when he had suggested that it would ease his tension! Sam smiled at his brother as Dean contentedly slipped into the driver's seat of the Impala, maybe, one day – when the time was right, he would tell Dean.

b Six Months Later /b 

"Come on Sammy" Dean flung himself down on the lumpy motel bed "Films gonna start in a minute – you don't want to miss this" he grinned as his younger brother squashed onto the bed beside him "Bobby got it from a 'friend' – said it was real good – you know" Dean winked "Real good"

"What's it about Dean?" Sam had asked for something cerebral like 'The Da Vinci Code' but he guessed that was not what Dean had on offer "Is it an Action film? A horror?"

"Oh no Sammy" Dean flicked a grin at his brother and rubbed his groin suggestively "It's better than that"

"You got porn again – didn't you?" Sam sighed "You are so predictable Dean"

"Yeah well – this one is supposed to have a story – you know – one of these sword and sorcery epics" Dean turned to his brother, alarmed at the sudden pallor in Sam's cheeks "You ok bro? You look a little green around the gills there" Dean pressed play and settled back, his eyes fixed on the screen. Sam fidgeted and squirmed, maybe it wouldn't be THE film, maybe it was something similar.

"Hey Sammy" Dean's voice broke his reverie "Hey that guy there – he's a sasquatch like you – even got the same emo hair – some short toga he's wearing for a jolly green – Sam?" he swallowed, his eyes standing out on stalks, unable to tear them away from the flickering images before him "Hey Sammy…good work there bro – never knew you had it in you" Dean grinned at his brother's retreating back and he laughed out loud as he heard the bathroom door slam and Sam groan with embarrassment "That's my boy" he nodded with some pride "That's my boy"

Fin


End file.
